


Too Good to Hope

by deedeeinfj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius at Godric's Hollow; slightly AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Good to Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on Livejournal, 2003

He knew before he landed that it was too late. Even from far away, he could see that there was no house where there should have been, only smoke rising lazily from a pile of ruins. Too late for the house. That was all his mind allowed him to admit. He would not believe that James, Lily, and Harry lay under the debris. He couldn't allow himself to believe that Peter had betrayed them. He wasn't yet ready to accept the fact that he himself had killed them.

The motorbike descended and landed, and Sirius swung his leg over to stand in front of the ruins. For several minutes, he simply stared, trying to comprehend. His eyes moved over wood, ashes, smoke, and the grinning jack-o-lantern that seemed to be the only survivor of Voldemort's attack. But he didn't register any of it until he saw a spot of red in the back, and he knew it was Lily's hair. But lowering his eyes quickly was the wrong thing to do, because then they landed on the shock of black hair and broken glasses. He felt the air escaping his lungs, felt the nauseating twist of his stomach, felt his knees hit the ground. He could smell nothing but smoke, and the back of his throat tasted like soot. The only sense that took nothing to his brain was hearing, and the silence was almost worse than any of the rest. So he mumbled "No" to make it go away. But he did hear something else, because somewhere in the wreckage there was a baby crying.

"Oh God..." he muttered. "Harry."

He stood quickly and charged into the debris, back to where Lily lay. She had fallen on her side, and her upturned cheek was bruised and scratched from the collapse of the house. Her eyes were still open, their vivid green now too dark to see. There wasn't even time for Sirius to notice the way his heart wrenched and shut down in cold fury and grief. One of Lily's arms lay on a small pile of blankets, still curled around her baby, and Sirius knelt down to take Harry away from his mother. His first reaction was horror at the blood that covered Harry's face, and he gently smoothed back the unruly black hair to examine the forehead. With his fingertip he traced the jagged gash and stared down at Harry, who was still crying, now stretching tiny fingers up to grasp Sirius' hand. Sirius laid his hand against Harry's cheek and stared. How.

There would be time to learn that later. He folded Harry against his chest and swayed his arms slightly back and forth until the crying stopped. "There," he murmured, stroking his fingers through Harry's hair, touching the impossibly soft cheek, running his fingertip over the curve of a tiny ear. "There." Harry fell asleep, and Sirius wept.

He didn't know how Harry could be alive, he didn't know where Voldemort had gone, he didn't know where Remus was or if he was in danger, he didn't know if he'd ever fully believe that the crushed body a few feet behind him was James, and he didn't know how Peter could have done this. He did know that he would find Peter and kill him. And he knew that if he did nothing else with his miserable life, he would take care of Harry.

He began piecing together the plan in his head; it didn't feel as terrible as thinking about what had just happened. Harry should be taken to St. Mungo's, and Sirius would stay with him until he was certain that everything was fine. He would take Harry to a hidden place where Voldemort could never find them -- a place like this? -- and soon Voldemort would be defeated. It would be safe then to find and kill the rat. Then he would raise Harry to be the best Quidditch player in Britain. The smartest kid at Hogwarts. The cleverest troublemaker. And somehow Remus would forgive him for betraying everyone except the traitor himself. They would be happy, Sirius told himself, and eventually he would forgive himself for this. It seemed far too good to hope, kneeling here in the smoking ruins in front of Lily's body, but because Harry was warm and sleeping in his arms, it also seemed possible.

He heard someone apparating behind him, and he stood up and drew his wand with the swift deftness that other boys in his class had envied. "Hagrid," he sighed, lowering the wand. He didn't bother to clean his face as he took careful steps out of the debris, and he closed his eyes as he passed James.

"Don' believe it," Hagrid was saying, wiping tears from his eyes. "James an' Lily."

"What are you doing here, Hagrid?" Sirius asked absently, folding the blankets more snugly around Harry and covering the crown of the baby's head with his hand. It looked so large and awkward next to Harry's tiny features.

"Dumbledore sent me," Hagrid said with a great sniffle. "Came as fast as I could."

"You might as well go back and tell him there's nothing we can do." Sirius motioned back towards the ruins without turning around. "They're dead. But make sure you tell him that Harry's still alive. I don't know how--" He paused, smoothing Harry's hair once more, noticing the delicate eyelashes, a bit of dried milk at the corner of the small, puckered mouth. "Just tell Dumbledore I've taken him. I'm his godfather, and I'll make sure he--"

"You can' take him, Sirius. Dumbledore knows he's alive, and he sent me t' get him."

Sirius slipped a finger through one of Harry's curled fists. "No." How could Dumbledore know that Harry survived?

"Bu--"

"No," Sirius repeated. He looked up at Hagrid, his face finally at an angle where the giant man could see his grief. "You are not taking Harry away from me."

Hagrid laid one huge hand on Sirius' shoulder and pulled him close. "I know they were yer bes' friends an' all," he said gruffly. "But Harry'll be safer with Dumbledore."

Every part of him resisted letting go of Harry, but Sirius told himself that Hagrid was right. After all, look what happened to people when he tried to protect them. He closed his eyes, surprisingly comforted by the coarse cloth of Hagrid's shirt and the hand awkwardly patting his back. Inhaling deeply, he stepped back from Hagrid and glanced at his motorbike.

"You should take my bike," he said dully. "I don't need it now, not as much as you do."

He extended his arms so that Hagrid could take Harry, but he looked away as he did so. One minute there was the warm, comforting weight of his future, and the next, nothing. He watched numbly as Hagrid wrapped Harry under his coat, sat on the motorbike, and sped away from Godric's Hollow. Above him, the quarter moon seemed to smile grotesquely. Without the happy responsibility of Harry in his arms, he now felt only the blinding cold and building heat of rage. He looked down one more time at the still bodies of James and Lily, listened one more time to the unnerving silence, then turned on his heel and went in search of Peter.

He would kill Voldemort himself if he had to, and when he returned, he would find Harry.


End file.
